


We look twenty five but we're sweet sixteen

by MarauderCracker



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Young Avengers
Genre: F/F, cute makeouts and general fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarauderCracker/pseuds/MarauderCracker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate is, like, an excellent detective. An awesome spy. Well, she's not bad. She just hates stakeouts, and America isn't here to distract her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We look twenty five but we're sweet sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr user @penisparker wanted amerikate on stakeout getting Distracted but it ended up more fluffly than anything else

It's twenty minutes past midnight, and Kate is questioning her deducting skills. Let this be said, Kate Bishop is not a bad detective. She's pretty good, even. Way better than she was at nineteen, in L.A. Still not as good as she'd wish for. But she's got backup now, real backup. Not just a dog, two civilians and a ghost. Superheroes. She's got David, and Tommy, and America. America, who was supposed to be back from DC with intel about half an hour ago. 

Kate shifts and huffs, trying to find a comfortable position. She's been hunched over the edge of the roof for two and a half hours, and her entire body's cramping. The quiver's strap is digging into the knots on her shoulder, and she needs to get a massage or kick someone's ass as soon as possible. Or both. Probably both. 

She's been gathering information on these bad guys for about a week, and everything's led her here. Here, where absolutely nothing is happening. She fiddles with the stolen phone on her pocket, takes it out again. It took a call to David to decipher the coded texts, but there is no doubt the meeting was scheduled for midnight. 

There's a buzz, a flashing light. Kate doesn't bother picking the bow from the floor, doesn't reach for her arrows. Instead, she straightens her back and huffs again. Decided footsteps make their way up to her, and America sits next to her, follows her gaze towards the quiet alley. There is nothing down there. 

"Agent Carrasco says you were right. That dude Schmidt is shady as fuck, he's probably leading the operation," America starts, with her most serious business tone. The information is a relief, it softens Kate's self-doubt a little. It doesn't explain the lack of movement, though. "I took a detour, went to David. He says the phones we've cloned are all dead. They probs picked up on someone following their steps and decided to lay low."

Only then does Kate take her eyes from the alley below them and looks at America. She looks as frustrated and pissed off as Kate feels. "So," Kate starts, stops. A movement below catches her eye, but when she turns, fast as a whip, only sees a cat moving around the garbage. "We are back at zero," she finally says. America shrugs. "We know Schmidt is dirty, we know he's connected to the superpower drugs. I kicked down in L.A. before going to David's, Reyes says he's heard of someone called Schmidt too." Kate doesn't know who this Reyes is. She can find out later. She's too tired now. She wants to just drop on her back and sleep on this same roof, but she's got the quiver between her shoulder blades. 

Kate is trying really hard to say something that isn't just whining and complaining, but America beats her to it. "You look like trash, princess," she says, and Kate can't help but laugh. It's a full body laughter, the kind that makes her throw her head back and rolls down her tense muscles, relieving a little of the stress but allowing the tiredness to sink deeper into her skin. It does out with a sigh, a dopey smile. "You're a real smooth talker, Chavez," Kate says. America leans in and noses her neck. "Have you even heard your own pick up lines, Bishop?" America asks, her lips brushing Kate's shoulder. Kate chuckles. 

"You're such a fucking dork," she says, and America shifts closer, kisses her collarbone. Kate expects a witty answer, but she gets teeth on her throat instead. Not hard enough to hurt, but it does make her gasp. She can almost feel the shape of America's grin against her skin. "If you don't kiss me proper I'm dumping your ass," Kate says, and she sounds whiny when she was aiming for bossy. America complies, though. 

Kate is sure she's got too-much-cheap-coffee breath, but America's tongue tastes like fruity bubblegum and she doesn't seem to care. She sucks on Kate's bottom lip anyways, tugs at it with her teeth until Kate gets the hint and follows the pull, goes from having America leaning over her to resting half of her weight on her instead. America hugs her by the waist, pulls her even closer, presses her tongue against Kate's front teeth before running it against the roof of her mouth. Kate sighs, tangles her hands in America's hair.

Kate's boneless, letting America support her weight and kiss her thoroughly. It's probably her third favorite kind of kisses, she decides, because she always thinks about random things when she's tired, even if the feeling of America licking the sensitive space under her tongue makes it a tad more difficult than usual. She's long ago ruled that the best kisses are the after-battle ones, when America's hair is a mess and she's still on the adrenaline high that kicking bad guys' asses gives. Second might be the lazy, playful ones when they hang out on Kate's sofa, America in just a hoodie and smiling all the time. But these are great. These are definitely an excellent third place. A terrible thing to miss, but still America pulls away. Kate opens her eyes, looks up at her, maybe even pouts a little. A tiny bit. Superheroes are allowed to pout too. 

"Are you falling asleep on me, princess?" America asks, grinning fondly at her. Kate tries really hard to open her eyes wide and shakes her head a little. America rolls her eyes. "How many hours did you even sleep this week?" she asks, and Kate winces. America's body is designed for interdimensional travels and superhuman kicking of ass. Kate's body is definitely not prepared for a week of surveillance and fighting bad guys with less than two hours of sleep per day. And America knows this.

"I'm taking your ass to bed, come on," America finally says, knowing she won't get a straight answer. Kate wants to complain, but she's too tired to do anything but let herself be hauled up by her girlfriend. She's standing up, almost entirely by herself, when she realizes her bow is still on the floor. 

She's groaning and reaching down to grab it when she catches another small movement down the alley. It's not a cat. Kate can make out a suitcase in the shadows, being passed between two guys. She's got an arrow out before thinking about it, and is firing it just as America jumps over the edge of the roof. The arrow hits one of the guy's shoulders, and the floor shakes just a little when America's feet make contact with it. 

 

* * *

 

Kate doesn't feel tired. At all. She's still hurting everywhere, but it's good. It's great. Even if she's holding the suitcase in front of her body, one of its edges digging into her hip when America pushes closer and kisses her deeper. It's the best kind of kissing, rushed and clumsy and high on  _victory_ as they stumble into the light and fall through it, right into Kate's apartment. The portal fades and the sound of sirens fades with it. 

"I know you want a trophy, but you really shouldn't take the evidence into bed," America says, smirking down at Kate. Kate rolls her eyes and makes a face at her, but steps away and goes to leave the case over her desk. They can take it back to SHIELD tomorrow. Right now, she's hoping to make use of her newfound energy before the adrenaline clears from her system and her body collapses. 

America goes up to her as soon as the suitcase has left Kate's hands, grabs at the sides of her face and plants a sound kiss on her mouth before pulling away again. "Are you even gonna take the quiver off your back?" she asks. Kate yawns as soon as her bow is on the floor.


End file.
